


I Can't

by Davechicken



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: M/M, Pre-Slash, mentions of torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-20
Updated: 2017-01-20
Packaged: 2018-09-18 16:28:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9393632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Davechicken/pseuds/Davechicken
Summary: Hux refuses to take Kylo to Snoke.





	

The first time Hux saw Kylo after a ‘training’ session, he’d thought the man was being arrogant, full of his own false self-importance after taking up the Leader’s time. The man’s responses had been bitten-off, like his words were somehow now as precious as kyber crystals, doled out in meagre scraps to the waiting masses.

Or that’s what Hux had _thought_.

In time, he’d learned to read a masked face. He’d never needed to read the ones of his troopers, or even his Captain. If the words didn’t suit, he’d send them off to be reconditioned back spick and span. With Kylo Ren, however, there was no such luxury… But there were tells, once you paid attention: the angle of the head (if it tilted to one side, or back, or forwards); the scrunching or straightening of spine and shoulders (making tall, making small); the clenching of fists; the length and surety of stride; the undertones in his voice, even through the modulator. 

The second time, he’d realised the curt words weren’t out of condescension, but guarded pain. The stiffer, jerkier movements those of aching muscles; and the short-tempered responses were internally motivated, for once.

Kylo was not a performative person, for all he wore a mask and carried a battle name. Hux would lay money on both being the Leader’s choice. No, although Kylo _did_ have strategic potential, he was _reactive_. He lived from one moment to the next, responding and not presenting. If he felt something, it was there to be seen if you looked. He didn’t behave how he did to get things, he behaved like that because he _felt like it_ , which was entirely at odds with Hux’s whole experience of personal motivation.

Hux behaved like he did because he wanted things. He geared his actions and manner to maximise opportunities, to control situations, and to improve the chances of his desired outcomes. He didn’t lash out because he was angry. He didn’t hide because he was afraid. He planned, considered, followed through. 

So when Kylo’s now-bare face lifted, seeing him silhouetted by the shuttle ready to rescue him… Hux could see every last thing there. 

And weirdly, for once, he let himself feel something, too.

 _It is time to complete his training_.

No. Not if the training was anything like it had been in the past. Maybe it was the youthful terror, self-loathing and shame that did it. Maybe it was just that he’d lost a weapon he’d devoted most of his adult life to, gone like so much smoke. Maybe it was on some level a self-preserving fear, or maybe he just understood failure and could finally feel empathy.

 _I can’t send you to him_.

“Come along, Ren.”  


Kylo didn’t move, lying flat-out on the powdery ground. He looked like he’d freeze into the snow permanently, if he didn’t get up now.

“Don’t make me regret this risk,” Hux snapped.  


“What?”  


“I can’t let him do it to you again. _Come on_. We’re leaving.”  


Hux never did anything unless it furthered his goals.

Until today. Until today…


End file.
